


Festive

by Gairid



Category: Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-14
Updated: 2012-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 02:12:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gairid/pseuds/Gairid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason Louis is wearing that sweater.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Festive

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt challenge I put up in my LJ. pointedulac put up the prompt 'festive'.

“You aren’t really going to wear that, are you?” Lestat’s moue of dismayed horror told me all I needed to know.

“You said ‘casually festive’, did you not?” I looked down at the sweater, pearl grey with a pair of reindeer rampant across the chest; the reindeer looked disconcertingly ferocious. It was truly execrable but far less so than many others I’d seen when I’d gone out looking for something to wear. 

I wasn’t aware that ‘festive’ meant ‘terrifying’.” Lestat said, frowning at the sweater. “I always thought you would look good in pretty much anything, but this is pushing it, Louis, it really is. Tell me this is a joke.”

“It’s a designer sweater, Lestat – a Merino wool blend. The saleswoman at Barney’s insisted that only Phillip Lim could have designed reindeer as avant-garde”

“Avant-garde? It’s dreadful!” he cried. 

“Festive.” I said firmly.

“It’s clearly a woman’s sweater,” he said, grasping at straws.

“When did that ever matter? I could pull several dozen examples of not-strictly-male attire from your closet at home."

He ignored this and took another tack. “What about that Prada shirt, the dark green one I bought you?”

“It’s a beautiful shirt, but rather sober…hardly what anyone would call festive.” 

“The violet Hugo Boss, then?”

I smiled gently at him. “It’s not as though I’m wearing an acrylic monstrosity with sequined mistletoe and a wreath with flashing lights.”

“But Louis—reindeer?" His agitation was growing, even as he stroked the soft wool sleeve. 

“It’s the coven Christmas party, Lestat.” I said, turning to face him. His own clothes were a study in elegance—fine dark grey cashmere trousers, a narrow leather belt and a deep red silk shirt. I slid my hands over his hips.

He looked into my face, his eyes at suffused at once with love and not a little suspicion “You are up to something. I knew it!”

“Nothing elaborate.” My mouth was very close to his. “You get snappish when you get bored. Rude, one might say. I thought I would undertake to keep you …entertained."

Dawning understanding in his eyes. “I shall insult that hideous sweater.” His delighted smile was beautiful.

“How hurt I will be!” 

“Such woe! What a drama queen.” 

“Armand will wish to console me.” I said soberly.

“Doubtless drawing my jealous ire.” 

“Doubtless. Marius will do his best to keep you under some semblance of control.”

“I will heap scorn upon your sense of fashion.”

“Tears will start in my emerald eyes.” I said dryly. “And I shall stumble blindly from the room, out into the cruel cold of a New York winter’s night.”

“What fun! They will berate me. Armand will look triumphant and in twenty minutes I will be back here with you, naked on the floor before this glorious view.” He jerked his head toward the wide window that looked out over a snowy Central Park. " _Mon Dieu_ , but you are a genius!" he kissed me then and I was momentarily hopeful that we would forego the party altogether.

“I knew you didn’t really like that sweater.” he said, taking our coats from the closet.

“I had you going, though. Admit it.”

“You did. Shall we walk, Louis? We can elaborate on this plan of yours on the way and be fashionably late into the bargain.”

FIN

(You can see the sweater here: http://www.net-a-porter.com/product/178763 )


End file.
